The following occurrence has been
told to the writer by one of his friends, for whose reliability he is
responsible.
« It is now more than thirty
years since the following event took place, and the reason why I have never said
much about it is, that I am not a believer in the reality of spooks, hobgoblins
or ghosts; neither do I wish to be suspected by clever people of harboring such
superstitions. I would never have expected anyone to believe in the truth of my
tale, and I have often tried my best to persuade myself that it was only a
dream.
Still it was as real to me when
it occurred as any other event iii my life, and now as the recent Theosophical
teachings have thrown a new light upon such subjects and explained them in a
perfectly natural way, I can see no reason why I should not make public what
heretofore I regarded as unexplainable and as too sacred to come before the eye
of the sceptic.
In the year 1860, my parents and
I, with my two sisters Bertha and Johanna, were living in a large and commodious
house, a kind of château on the top of a hill near the town of G__, in Southern
Bavaria. The name of the house was Hannstein, and it was formerly the residence
of one of the bishops that ruled over the country in the last century.
These bishops had large retinues
and were lovers of comfort, consequently the house was provided with many rooms
and corridors, connected by a labyrinth of staircases and private passages. My
own room was adjoining a large dining-hall on the second floor, and the hall opened
upon a gallery at the end of which was the principal staircase.
My elder sister, Bertha, was a
sedate girl, not very attractive, but very kindhearted. She did not care for
amusements, but loved books and poetry and painting — in fact she was a little
artist herself; but Johanna, the younger sister, was very beautiful, full of
fun and merriment; especially she was passionately fond of dancing, and in her exuberance
of spirits she often took hold of me and made me dance with her round the room,
to my great vexation, because I never knew how to dance well, and would become giddy;
and then when I stumbled about trying to regain my equilibrium, she would laugh
at my clumsiness until the tears ran down her cheeks — all of which, however,
only amused me, for she was my favorite sister and the pet of the family.
Unfortunately during one cold winter
night and while attending a ball in a neighboring town, Johanna contracted a
severe cold, which developed rapidly into pulmonary consumption. At that time I
was at the university at Munich, studying medicine.
The letters which I received from
home still informed me that Johanna’s health was improving, and it was expected
that she would recover; but when I came home during vacation I saw a bright red
spot upon one of her cheeks that told me about the progress of her disease. Nevertheless
Johanna had lost none of the gaiety of her temperament; she was not visibly depressed
in spirit, and bore her sufferings with great fortitude.
After vacation was over I returned
to Munich, and the news from home in regard to Johanna's health became
gradually worse, until one morning, when I returned home at daybreak, after
having spent, as I am now bound to confess, the whole night in singing and
drinking with my comrades, I found a telegram upon my- desk, informing me, that
if I wanted to see Johanna alive once more, I must come home without a moment’s
delay.
Here I must interpolate a word in
defense of my character, Let not the reader hold up his hands in holy horror
for having been unblushingly told that I spent a night in carousal. The German
student is held under great restraint until he comes to the university. He is then
at once liberated and left to do what he pleases, and it is only natural that
he should commit occasional excesses in enjoying his liberty and give vent to
inclinations that grew strong, because they were suppressed.
The dispatch had arrived the
previous evening, and there was no time to be lost; but, unfortunately, the fast
train, the only one connecting with the stage at K__, did not leave until four
p.m., so I had to restrain my impatience and wait, and I passed the time in
cursing my folly for not having returned home sooner, in which case I could have
taken the midnight train.
Slowly as the hours passed, the
torture of waiting at last came to an end, and we started, arriving at K__ at
eight p.m., which was then the nearest point of the railway to G__, and left me
still three hours to travel by stage. It was a dismal night in November; dark clouds
hovered upon the sky, rain and sleet were falling, and the roads were in a
deplorable condition.
With an air of resignation to the
unavoidable, the driver mounted the box, while I vainly tried to find some way
for stretching my limbs in the inside of the coach. Off we went in good style,
which continued as long as the paved street lasted; but when we were once
outside the town the road became very bad, and the poor horses could pull the heavy
coach only at a slow pace, which in some places for a short time improved into
a trot.
What I suffered during that trip would
be difficult to describe. Impatience and remorse, the desire to see my sister
once more, the fear of being too late, together with the physical discomfort
occasioned by cold and moisture, and the shaking, thumping and bouncing of the coach,
rendered my position altogether unenviable.
In addition to that I experienced
fatigue from having had no sleep on the previous night. I was so exhausted,
that I must have fallen into a doze, for my recollection of the latter part of
my journey is very indistinct. I only know that I was aroused by a sudden rattling
of wheels over cobblestones, and then the carriage came to a stop with a jerk
that threw me down from my seat.
I crawled out of the coach, and found
that we were at the inn called the “Goldenes Kreuz,” and by the aid of the lamp
at the corner I looked at my watch and found that it was nearly midnight.
Hastily I walked on up the hill to
Hannstein, and arrived at the old mansion.
Impatiently I rang the bell at the door, and after a while our old deaf
porter opened and stared at me with a vacant look. I did not stop to ask
questions, but hurried upstairs to the great hall that led to my room, for the
purpose of divesting myself, of my great coat. I lighted the candle upon the
table, then pulled off my coat, and as I turned round I faced my sister Johanna,
standing before me with a pleasant smile upon her lips.
I now remember well that I was a
little startled by seeing her dressed in white muslin, with a wreath of white
roses upon her brow, while her long dark brown hair fell in ringlets over her
shoulders; but I was too much surprised at seeing her well and alive, and at
such an unusual hour before me, to reflect upon the peculiarity of her dress.
She looked somewhat pale, but the
bright red spot upon her cheek had departed, and her eyes seemed to me brighter
than usual, although there was in them a somewhat dreamy expression.
-
“Why, Johanna!” I
exclaimed, grasping both her hands, “did you hear me come? How glad I am to see you so well; I thought
you were very sick."
-
“I am perfectly
well,” answered my sister.
And in fact there was nothing
about her appearance or manner indicating anything to the contrary, unless
perhaps that her voice seemed to have a peculiar sound, as of coming from afar;
but this I attributed to the condition of the large hall, in which every sound
seemed to be echoed back from vacant space.
She was the same gay and
beautiful girl 1 had known before I went to Munich; there was about her beauty
even something more ethereal than before; which may have been due to the
contrast which her dark tresses formed with her white apparel.
-
“I can hardly believe
my eyes,” I said, patting her caressingly upon the cheek;“ I expected to find you
unable to move, and now you look as if you were ready to go to a ball.”
Johanna smiled, and as if
desirous of proving to me that she could move, she swiftly turned several times
round with graceful motions, and then taking hold of me made me waltz with her
round the hall, just as she had done in former times, and without listening to
my protest that I could not dance in my heavy boots.
Her steps were inaudible and she
seemed to have no weight; but my nailed boots made a great clatter that sounded
dismally through the hall. At last I became so giddy that I begged her to stop.
I disengaged myself from her grasp and stood still, and as the walls seemed to
turn round me in swift motion, I held my hands over my eyes.
When I opened my
eyes again, Johanna had gone; I was alone in the hall. Hastily I opened the door to run
after her, and as I did so I found Sister Alfonsa in the gallery, holding a
lighted candle. Now Sister Alfonsa was well known to me and I to her; she was a
nun from a neighboring convent, and used to wait upon the sick and hold vigils
with the bodies of the dead.
Small and emaciated she was and
herself near the grave; nevertheless she was a courageous little woman, and as
she stood there with her black gown and white veil, holding the lighted candle
in one hand and a rosary in the other, she showed no fear; there was rather a
look of defiance about her; which changed into astonishment as she recognized
me.
-
“What is the matter,
Sister Alfonsa?” I asked. “Did you see Johanna?”
-
“It is for me to ask
you, sir, what is the matter,” she answered.
-
“I came to see what
is the cause of this unearthly noise and trampling of feet over the chamber of
the dead.”
-
“Who is dead?” I
asked in surprise. “Johanna was here and made me dance with her, to show me
that she was well. Where is she? Did you not meet her in the gallery?”
The nun crossed herself and
looked at me enquiringly, as if to see whether I was drunk or insane. At last
she said:
-
“The Lord have mercy! Your sister Johanna died at six o'clock last
evening. I have been sitting up with the corpse.”
I listened no longer, but hurried
down stairs; and true- enough, in the room below the great hall, there was the
body of Johanna laid out upon the bier, dressed in white muslin, with a wreath
of white roses in her unloosened hair. The red spot was gone, her hands were
folded as if in prayer, and a sweet peaceful smile rested upon her lips.
My sister Bertha also made her
appearance and confirmed the tale that Johanna had died at six p.m., and added
that the last wish which the dying girl had expressed was that she should see
me once more.
~ * ~
Now everyone may explain this
occurrence to his or her own satisfaction. I do not believe in a return of the
spirits of the dead that have gone to heaven, but I believe that the astral
form of a person on becoming separated from the body by death may do many
strange things, according to the instincts dwelling therein. »
(Lucifer revue, November 1892, vol.
11, p.219-223)
OBSERVATIONS
I
could not tell you if that story was a real event or if it was invented or
imagined by his narrator, but although for some it may seem a very fanciful
narration, from an esoteric point of view, it is possible that it happened
because there are many testimonies of people who claim to have been visited by
a loved one when this human was dying elsewhere.
And
this is because at the moment of death, the human who is dying and very
intensely wishing to see someone, he projects his astral body towards that
person, and in some cases materializes his astral body becoming visible, and
even sometimes he can talk with that person.
Usually
this occurs at the time of death or shortly after; however, in Johanna´s case,
it is surprising that six hours have passed, because the masters explain that
just after death, the humans fall into a deep sleep, but maybe the intense
desire that she had to see her brother, that allowed her to keep her consciousness
still awake.
However,
to wait six hours, and then being able to materialize the astral body at will,
it is not something that an ordinary human can easily achieve. So I suspect that
a higher being must have helped Johanna to accomplish her desire.
And
surely, some of you will ask:
Why would a higher
being satisfy this wish to Johanna?
And
one possible explanation would be because of karma, since positive karma seeks
to satisfy our desires, and since Johanna seems to have been a good woman, it
is possible that karma has granted her desire to be able to say goodbye to her
brother before she leaves the physical plane.
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